After Luke and Ariel’s senior recital, lest you think I’m a music snob, let me assure you I’m an equal opportunity music lover. At another recital (given by professional musicians), I fell in love with Schoenberg. If you’ve never heard of Schoenberg, let’s just say his compositions are what would happen if music married math and gave birth to chaos. Only instead of being a train wreck, it’s a cool, geometric dissonance. Really.
Of course, my kids think I have little taste in music. They point to my playlist at playlist.com (it’s free), which consists of everyone from Martha Reeves and the Vandellas to the Beach Boys to the Cars to Sting to the Cranberries. When I click on my playlist, Luke shuts his bedroom door. Ariel says, “You’re listening to that?!” Okay, but in all fairness, she likes the Cranberries too. But, it seems to me that most music has a purpose. For example, I do my sit-ups to Pat Benetar. I can “go for the burn” when she sings about “putting another notch in her lipstick case.” And even Matthew, who was walking through our bedroom the other day when it was playing said, “Hey, that’s a cool guitar riff.” Yep, I can do twenty in that riff alone.